When Life Throws You Demons, You Make Demonade
by Vlad-the-Impish
Summary: A visitor from the lad of Tweed causes a stir.
1. Chapter 1

When Life Throws You Demons, You Make Demonade

Chapter One

I had been in LA a couple of hours and I'd just finished unpacking my things in my hotel room when my stomach informed me that I was hungry once again. My flight had been more like a ride at a theme park than a smooth and restful way to travel long distances, so I had politely declined the offer of food when the hostess came down the aisle.

Not wanting to pay through the nose for room service, I decided to go eat at a café across the road from where I was staying. It was late at night so I wasn't surprised to see it empty when I opened the door, but I screeched to a halt when I saw the waitress. She was busying herself with cleaning the tables and replenishing the sellers and either hadn't heard my entrance or didn't really care. I didn't mind either way as I was hypnotised by the sway of her ass as she was wiping down the tables.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not normally the sort of guy to stand and leer at the opposite sex, but it was like a metronome, keeping a steady rhythm that I could have easily started dancing to if I allowed myself. After a few more seconds I shook my head to clear the less than pure images running through it and made my way to the counter, deciding to sit at one of the stools instead of a booth like I would at home.

As I walked past, she finally realised that she had a customer and made her way to the other side of the counter, a fake smile adorning her otherwise breathtaking face. She was a vision, one of those natural beauties that need no make up, her green/brown eyes appearing to absorb light to produce an otherworldly glow. Her skin was flawless and smooth and I had to suppress the urge to run my thumb across her cheek to feel how soft it was. Her lips were, well, the only way I could describe them was inviting and it was difficult not to take them up on their offer.

I took my glasses off and ran my hand down my face, trying to get my mind out of the gutter it had decided to lie in. I'd only been in America a few hours and I'd already gone native.

"What can I get you?" she asked in a cheery yet monotonous tone, making it evident that she asked everyone that came in that very same question.

I swallowed the first reply that came to mind, not wanting to get slapped, and took a quick look at the menu on the wall behind her before I gave my order. "Well…" I flick my gaze to her name badge, "Anne, I'd like a BLT on white, a large mug of black coffee and a slice of that lovely looking apple pie over there please."

I noticed that she had stopped taking down my order halfway through and actually started to look at me suspiciously, as though she'd seen me on some wanted poster. At first I thought that I'd maybe said something to offend her, but going over it I couldn't think of anything that she could have misconstrued so I was basically at a loss.

"You're British," she accused, making it sound like it was an offence to be so.

I don't remember ever being made to feel like my nationality was a crime before, but I certainly felt like that just then. My first impulse was to go on the offensive, several choice comments concerning colonials coming to mind, but my curiosity concerning why my accent caused such an extreme response caused me not to. Instead I use my old stalwart companion, humour.

"Actually my name is Anthony, although I have been told that, from a certain angle, I look like Samuel L. Jackson."

It's at this point I suppose that I should explain that I look nothing like him, apart from the fact we both have Y chromosomes. I'm white, a shade under 6' and a little over 300lbs, although I don't look an ounce over 285lbs. In my defence, most of that weight is muscle, but I'm the first to admit that I don't have an athletic or bodybuilder figure. I change my hairstyle almost as often as the wind changes direction, and at the moment I'm going for the shaved look, but you can tell from my eyebrows that I'd have black hair. My eyes are a very dark brown and almost blend in with my irises.

While not very funny, my comment had the desired effect of confusing her enough that her ire diminishes slightly, enough that her higher brain functions regain control once more. I wasn't too worried if she did get angry with me, she looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over, but I have had enough experience with angry women to understand that I'd best not antagonise her if possible.

"Do you know a Rupert Giles by any chance?" she asked me, using a tone that spoke volumes on how she'd react if I gave the wrong answer.

By this point I didn't really care one way or the other about what she'd say or do, any previous thoughts about her now forgotten. All I wanted when I came in was some food and a coffee; instead I seem to find myself in the Californian version of the Spanish Inquisition. I was still curious about why she was acting the way she was, especially after her question, so I kept myself as calm as possible as I answered her truthfully.

"As a matter of fact I do, he was a friend of my father's."

Rupert was actually one of the reasons I was in America, it had been years since I had spoken to him face to face and I wanted to see how he was doing. I could tell that she decided I'd given the wrong answer when quick as a flash she had grabbed me by the collar and lifted me effortlessly towards her. I was shocked to say the least, not by her reaction, but by how easily she manhandled me.

"Let me make this clear to you; I'm not going back and you can't make me. Go tell Giles and the Council that I quit, they can go and find themselves another Slayer."

Now not only was I confused, but I was also more than a little insulted. I grabbed her hands and applied a lot of pressure to a point on her hand between her thumb and forefinger that gave her no option but release me before slapping her hands away from me and resuming my position on my stool.

"There are a few things we need to get clear my dear. Firstly I am no more a member of the Council of Watchers than I am a Powerpuff Girl. As far as I'm concerned the Council is an abomination and I wouldn't piss on Quentin or Roger if they were on fire. There are in my mind only three exceptions to the rule that all Watchers are bastards; my father was one, Rupert is another, and when he isn't trying to impress his father Wesley is the third. Secondly the last time I corresponded with Rupert he said that his Slayer was a young lady by the name of Muffy or Puffy, something silly like that…"

"My name is Buffy!" she snapped, before realising that she had just blown her cover. I found it strange she didn't think she had before.

"I wouldn't be so proud of that if I were you. If you are Buffy, why are you here in LA instead of Sunnydale?"

"It's none of your business why I'm here instead of doing my 'sacred calling'."

"Quite frankly my dear I don't give a damn about your calling, what I do care about is why you have left your family and friends alone to face the evils of the Hellmouth when you should be there to help and protect them."

I had definitely hit a nerve with that as she suddenly lost all of her anger and paled considerably. I guessed that whatever the reason were for her leaving, she had never taken time to think about those she had left behind. I had no thoughts one way or the other about her well being, and any inklings I had about her attractiveness disappeared the moment she went all paranoid on me, but I knew that if she had left without informing the others, Rupert would be beside himself with worry. Also she was blessed by being a Slayer that hadn't been found by the Council before she was Called, so that meant she had friends and a family that were no doubt worrying over her. It was for them that I decided to see if I could persuade her to return home.

"I couldn't stay, mom found out about the Slayer stuff and told me that if I left the house I couldn't go back. Kendra the other Slayer was killed and the police think I did it. Oh and I sent my boyfriend to Hell. Well, he was my boyfriend until he lost his soul but he still looked like him. All in all I had no choice but to leave and nothing's changed."

I can see the pain in her eyes and knew that she had been suffering greatly since everything she described occurred, and I understand how difficult everything must have been for her, but there was only one thing I could say in response to that.

"Bollocks."

"Excuse me?" she asked me, shocked by my statement.

"I said bollocks, another way of saying bullshit or that's a bunch of crap. Would you like me to explain why?"

"Oh please, dazzle me with your psychoanalysis skills."

"It's not something we should probably discuss here, someone might come in and I doubt they'll find murder and apocalypses everyday conversation topics."

"Hardly anyone comes in at this time of night, that's why I was given the job."

"I did."

I could see that she was tempted to argue the point, but instead she just sighed. "Fine."

She made her way round the counter and over to the door, locking it and turning over the sign to indicate that the diner was closed. She then came over and sat down on the stool to my right.

"Talk, but be aware I disagree with my fists more than my mouth."

Now knowing that she was the Slayer, I took this threat far more seriously than I did her last and nodded once before beginning. I might have been taking her more seriously now, but that wouldn't change what I had to say.

"I'll start with your mother. I'm guessing that she found out just before you had to go and do something along the lines of saving the world?"

"Yeah, we had to stop Angelus from awakening Acathla."

"That would definitely qualify as a world saving event. Being that she probably didn't have the slightest idea what hides in the shadows, she didn't believe you and you didn't have time to set up any charts or flow diagrams to explain, so you were agitated, which turned to angry, which turned into the two of you arguing and your mother giving you the ultimatum that most mother's give their children at one point or another in their lives if they're reacting the way you were. How am I doing so far?"

She doesn't say anything, but the fact that she doesn't refute my statement tells me everything I need to know.

"Your mother didn't mean what she said, she was simply out of her depth and said the first thing that came to mind. No doubt she thought that it would shock you enough to stay and give her time to get some satisfactory answers. There's generally one constant about mothers; they will never turn away their children, no matter what they have done. If they do then they're not worth the trouble in the first place. Do you really think that she'd do that to you?"

She seemed to be mulling everything I said over; as though it were the first time she'd allowed herself to really think things over.

"No," was her eventual response.

"Thank god for that. Next is the Kendra situation. I don't believe that she was another Slayer as it's pretty well known that there's only one, hence 'Chosen _One'_," she wanted to argue but I put my hand up to stop her, "but we'll agree to disagree on that until one of us is proven right. There is no way that Rupert would allow you to be seen as a suspect in a murder that you didn't commit. Hell, if I know Rupert he wouldn't let you go down for a murder that you did commit, if it was during your duty as a Slayer. He's one of those loyal types you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"I remember from one letter that Rupert said you have friends that are in the know about your nocturnal activities, I cannot see them just sitting by and allowing people to believe you killed this Kendra girl, anymore than you would let any of them be seen in that way. Basically what I'm telling you is that I highly doubt that there are any warrants out for your arrest. Is that a fair assumption to make?"

Again, she looked like everything I said was the first time it had occurred to her. "I guess so."

"Now your last stopping block isn't something I can really advise you on, having never experienced the same thing. What I do know is that, if I were going through what you are now, I'd sure as hell want my family and friends around for support. Everybody needs somebody to talk to, even more when you live in the world that you do. Isn't there anyone in your life, apart from your mother who is in my opinion first call in every situation, that you could talk to about what happened?"

"Well, there's Xander…"

"Xander? What flipped out country is this that parents give their children names like Buffy or Xander?"

"Buffy is a great name and Xander is short for Alexander."

"Ah, Protector of Man, a suitable name for one who fights vampires. So if you have this Xander that you could speak to, why didn't you?"

"I don't know alright? It's just that so much happened at once and I couldn't think straight so I ran."

"Fine, you're not the first to feel like that, but why haven't you gone back yet?"

"The longer I stayed away, the easier it was to believe that I couldn't go back, which made me stay away longer, which made it even easier to believe that I couldn't go back, which…"

"Stop! I get it. What about now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why aren't you going back now? I just blew two of your three reasons out of the water and the third one I doubt will ever go away completely, it's just something you'll learn to deal with over time. What is keeping you away from everyone that you care for and cares for you?"

"I don't really know."

"Then I think it's high time that you return. I know that you do not know me, or even have any reason to trust me apart from the heart to heart we've just had, but I'm making my way to Sunnydale myself in a couple of days and I'm more than willing to drive you."

"I don't know."

"There might be something else you might want to accompany me with, if you're willing."

"What's that?"

"Coming with me to pay respects to my father."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"My father was Merrick Jamison-Smythe."


	2. Chapter 2

**One Week Later**

With some persistence and charm, I had managed to persuade Buffy to go with me to my father's grave a couple of days later, both of us placing flowers there and paying our respects to a man that had meant a lot to both of us. She had tried to apologise for not saving him, but I had cut her off before she had a chance, knowing that he had gone out the way he'd wanted, protecting his charge. I had laughed when she told me about father's first attempt to prove she was a Slayer, throwing a knife at her head. That was another Council tradition I had problems with, especially if they threw it at the wrong girl.

Getting her to admit she wanted to go home was an entirely different matter, and one that had resorted me to ordering her into my car. I could see that for all of her denials she desperately wanted to be with her friends and family once more, her own fears and stubbornness stopping her from making the first step herself. My insistence that she come with me was enough to satisfy her mind that she wasn't going of her own free will, even though she could easily throw me through the windscreen if she truly didn't want to accompany me.

My patience had been sorely tested on the trip to Sunnydale, as Buffy had been bitching and moaning the whole way about how unfair it was that I was forcing her to come with me. I'd been tempted more than once to stop the car and tell her to get out if she really didn't want to go, the only thing stopping me was the thought that she might actually take me up on it.

One thing she was **very** adamant about was that she was still reluctant to see her mother. She was still worried that she would be turned away and she was not ready to take that risk. I knew that I could talk myself raw trying to persuade her otherwise and get nowhere so I simply gave in, saying that she could go with me to see Rupert instead. She moaned and bitched some more but didn't argue with me about it so I knew she'd do it.

I hadn't actually informed Rupert I was even in the country, let alone coming to visit, so when he opened the door to see me standing there he was more than a little surprised.

"Tony? What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he asked, somewhere between shocked and confused.

"It's nice to see you too Rupert," I replied dryly, finding something a little off about the way he was talking. "I know better than to ask if I can come in, but I'm far too polite to just push my way past."

He gets the message and moves to one side, allowing me entry without giving consent. Buffy hadn't made herself known yet and was currently hiding, but I wasn't going to let that lie for long. I was going to push and prod her until she either did what she really wanted to do or I get my own bed in A&E.

"So why are you here Tony?" Rupert asked, deciding to get straight to the point.

"You know I prefer to go by Anthony Rupert, don't make me get the skillet again," I teased, reminding him of the last time he'd annoyed him and I'd chased him round the house with a skillet. "Before I get into why I'm here, although I don't see why I'd need a **reason** to see a friend, I have a present for you. I wasn't sure what to bring, and once I was sure I wasn't able to wrap it properly, so I'll just have to ask her to bring herself in." I turn round so I can face both Rupert and the door and call out to the prodigal daughter. "Come in Buffy."

There's a moments hesitation on her part, but then she makes he presence known and makes her way inside, closing the door behind her.

"Hi Giles," she greeted softly, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Buffy, my god it's so good to see you!" he exclaimed.

He rushes over to her and envelops her into a hug that can only be described as fatherly. I had been aware from his letters that he felt more for Buffy than his duties as Watcher required, but seeing it with my own two eyes I could see that he loved her like a daughter. I knew then that my vacation was going to be a lot longer than I first thought, especially when I remembered that Buffy's eighteenth birthday was a few months away.

"It's good to see you too Giles," she replied happily, returning the embrace fully.

"Yes, well, have you by any chance seen you mother yet?" he asked her, quickly letting her go and stepping back a pace or two. "She has been worried sick about you since the night you left."

Before she had a chance to reply, my laughter caught their attention as I finally realised how the old codger had been talking.

"Please don't tell me you've been keeping up that pompous accent all the time you've been here Rupert."

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked me, flitting her gaze between Rupert and myself. "Giles always talks like that, it's what Giles' do."

"Nobody born in Camden has that accent," I informed her amusedly, "and nobody with the old moniker of 'Ripper' would be caught dead using it, or so I thought."

"Tony…" Rupert growled, trying to warn me off. He really should know better.

"I can't believe you're actually trying to keep that up with me in the room," I stated, wondering if he actually thought I'd refrain from saying anything.

He just looked at me for a few moments before sighing and giving me the best approximation of a glare that he could with those stupid looking wire-rimmed glasses of his.

"You've always been an annoying bugger Anthony, your father would be proud," he stated heatedly, allowing his natural accent to come through at last.

"Thank you Rupert," I replied happily, taking his comment for the compliment that it was.

"Giles?" Buffy said questioningly, clearly confused about what was going on.

"As your Watcher I needed to sound like someone who would be able to advise and counsel you," he explained with a sigh, making me feel momentarily guilty for ratting him out the way I did, "I didn't think my natural accent would allow me to do that so I adopted a more formal tone. I had of course forgotten that I would have to keep the accent up once I started to use it."

"So you've been lying to me from the moment we met," she stated, hurt and anger lacing every word.

"No," he replied fiercely, "nothing I said to was a lie, I simply altered the way I spoke as I thought you might listen to me more. I soon found that I was wrong, but by then it was too late. How are you?" he asked in a transparent attempt to change the subject. Buffy must be in a magnanimous mood as she left it for now and answered his question.

"I'm… dealing. Definitely doing the dealing thing."

"**Have** you seen your mother yet?" he asked again, a little more softly that before. "As I said, she has been worried sick about you ever since the night you… left."

I cold tell that Rupert wanted to say 'ran away', but for one reason or another changed his mind. I was starting to think that their biggest problem was their reluctance to say what they thought for fear of upsetting someone. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for tact and diplomacy, but there are times when you need to call a spade a spade, as my father once said to me.

"She's worried that she won't be let in Rupert," I answered on her behalf, not having the time or the patience to wait for her to answer herself, "given that her mother said she wasn't allowed back if she left. I of course explained that she was talking a load of bollocks but I have as yet been unable to convince her of that."

"I can speak for myself you know," she muttered grumpily.

"Oh I am **more** than well aware of that, it has been my experience that all women have the ability to talk the hind leg off a donkey, as my father once said to me. It's just that I didn't want to grow roots, which would have happened had I waited for you to answer."

"While Tony…"

"It's **Anthony** Rupert. Don't think I was joking about getting the skillet."

"… **Anthony** could have worded it better than he did, I have to agree with him that Joyce would never turn you away. Xander and myself have explained to her not to invite anyone in so don't be surprised by if she doesn't, but I know that there is nothing she wants more in the world than for her daughter to return home. Now I suggest that you make your way home now; Joyce normally rings me in a few minutes to find out if I have heard from you and I will in no way shape or form lie about that."

Knowing that she couldn't put it off any longer, she sighs and nods her head.

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow about getting back into the swing of things patrolling wise."

"I look forward to it," Rupert replied with a smile.

"Bye Anthony, thanks."

"Not a problem Buffy," I told her sincerely, "I'll be staying around for a while so I'm sure we'll see each other again."

Buffy smiled at us both before opening the door and running as fast as her legs could carry her home, and for a slayer that is pretty fast. Once she was well out of earshot, I turned to Rupert and spoke to him in a tone I thought I'd never use with him.

"You attempt the Cruciamentum on her eighteenth and I will kill you," I stated clearly and forcefully, ensuring he knew I wasn't dicking around.

"Anthony…"

"When I first decided to come over," I said cutting him off, "the only things I had planned were laying a wreath on Dad's grave and catching up with you. I was going to keep as far away from the supernatural as was physically possible and leave as soon as I could. Then I walk into a diner and find myself threatened by a young slip of a girl that just so happened to be the Slayer, just because I had a British accent and knew you. I may not have said this to her, but I had half a mind to do as she asked and leave her in LA; at least there it was her choice whether she used the abilities that had been forced on her, raping her of her innocence or chance of a normal happy life. What stopped me was I could see she hated where she was, missed the people she had left behind, and I knew that those people were missing her too."

"I know you have never been a fan of what we do at the Council…"

"I hate the Council and everything it **truly** stands for Rupert," I stated firmly, cutting him off once more. "I almost cut all ties with you the day you told me you were being assigned as a field Watcher on basic principal. It took my mother, it took my father and it took my sister."

"Beverly is dead?" he asked me, shocked and saddened by the news. I really hadn't planned on telling him like that, he'd always had a soft spot for her and I knew he'd be upset "Why didn't you call, you know I would have come straight over."

"Her wishes were to be buried as quickly and quietly as possible. She wasn't even able to talk near the end and if she hadn't been Catholic I'm sure she would have ended it long before she finally died."

"For what it is worth, I'm sorry."

"So am I, that wasn't the way I wanted to tell you Rupert," I told him truthfully.

"You have every right to feel the way you do about the Council," he told me, getting back to the topic, "but you know as well as I do what the ramifications would be if I go against the Council's wishes."

"You attempt the Cruciamentum on her eighteenth and I will kill you," I stated again. "All you need to say is that you understand that fact."

"I understand," he replied, finally believing me.

"Good. So, how have you been?" I asked with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three Hours Later**

After catching up with Rupert I decided to go to the nearest cemetery and try my hand at dusting vamps. My father had always told me how dusting a vampire had a soothing effect on him and I wanted to see if it was a genetic trait, as I was more than a little tense.

Even though I had no intention of getting involved with the night life when I originally decided to come to the colonies, I wasn't stupid enough to think that the night life wouldn't get involved with me, **especially** on a Hellmouth, so I brought along a few things with me. You gotta love a diplomatic passport. Anyway, after driving to the nearest cemetery and grabbing a couple of stakes and the rapier my father gave me the birthday before he died, I made my way through searching for fresh graves.

Less than a minute into my search I found more than I was bargaining for. A group of kids no older than Buffy were walking through the cemetery, crossbows and stakes at the ready. A busty brunette in a cheerleader's uniform was a few meters ahead of the others, who were attempting but failing miserably to hide behind tombstones so they wouldn't be seen. They had the right idea, but the bright pink fluffy jumper the redheaded girl was wearing didn't make the best camouflage, nor did the almost neon green hair of the guy crouching next to her.

The only one of them that was doing a descent facsimile of hiding was a brunette male who was holding himself like a soldier, until he tripped on a twig that is, causing him to stumble but not fall over. He was acting like he knew how to act stealthily in theory, but had never put it into practise.

It was obvious that they were using the brunette girl as bait, something that was more than a little insane in my opinion, but they looked like it wasn't their first time using that tactic and they were still alive, so I wasn't going to comment. Something I was going to comment on was the obvious trap they were walking into. From my vantage point I could not only see the vamp going for the admittedly delectable bait, but the four other vamps lying in wait.

While I was more than happy to wait by a new grave and dust a newbie before it even clawed all the way out, taking on a pack of five vamps was beyond my limitations even when I embellish to impress the ladies. I had no idea how well the others fought, but the tactics they were using gave me an indication that they weren't used to dealing with packs. Knowing their ruse wouldn't work and I'd never forgive myself if I did nothing, I sped forward and intercepted the vamp going towards the young woman.

"Sorry to trouble you old bean," I said to him, taking a leaf out of Rupert's book and using a posh accent, "but I seem to have gotten myself a tad lost; I don't suppose you could direct me to the nearest tavern could you?"

"I've never had a Limey before, guess I get to tonight," the vamp growled at me, morphing into his vampiric visage as he did so.

I'd never been called a Limey before, but I knew right away I didn't like it. To prove that I didn't like it, I unsheathe my sword and slice into his stomach deeply, causing his bowels to spill out onto the floor. He must have been used to dealing with people who don't fight back, as I caught him completely by surprise. A second swipe takes his head and ends his suffering, acting as the catalyst for the others to come out of their hiding places.

By now the others in the merry band of vampire hunters joins us, the redhead handing the brunette a stake and a water pistol. I hear a _hiss_ and a _thunk_ and see another vamp dissolve into nothingness, I glance to my left and see neon boy with a crossbow.

That was the end of our luck, as the others charged as one. I had forgotten just how fast vampires were and was unprepared for the blow that sent me flying through the air, narrowly missing cracking my head open on a tombstone. I'm sure that I blacked out for a moment, unsurprising given that I felt like I'd been hit by a dump truck. I get up as quickly as I can and sheathe my sword, not wanting to risk one of the others getting in it's way, and put on the brass knuckles my boxing coach gave me. He had a less than conventional style.

The almost soldier and the cheerleader-cum-bait were tackling one vamp while Neon and Fluffy were taking another, leaving the third one all for me. I manage to duck and/or block several blows, although the one blow that did get through broke at least one rib. Ducking under a right cross, I manage to land a thunderous punch into his gut, the extra weight of the duster causing him to double over. Pressing my advantage, I hit him on the back of the neck with a double-handed blow, causing him to drop to the floor. Taking a stake from my waistband I slam it into his back, piercing his heart and making the count Good Guys three, Bad Guys zip.

Watching the two fights for a moment I could tell that Neon and Fluffy needed my help more, so I blindsided the vamp they were tackling and caused it to stumble to the ground. Fluffy squirted it with the water pistol she had with her, the screams indicating it was holy water inside the child's toy.

Using it's obvious pain to my advantage, I hit it a couple of times hard in the head, before indicating to Neon that he should stake it, given that I'd stupidly left the stake in the previous vamp which dusted along with it. He wasted no time in following my suggestion and that left one vamp to kill before I could find out whom the hell these guys were.

Turning my attention back two the two brunettes, I see the cheerleader getting knocked out of the way by the pseudo soldier, who took a hard blow to the head in her place. Seeing him lie motionless on the ground caused us all to go charging over, which had the vamp using a normally unknown common sense and run off, realising he was vastly outnumbered. I go to check on the one on the floor, only to have cheerleader get in my way.

"Who the hell are **you**?" she demanded, her tone making me believe she was used to having her orders obeyed. Never really being one to obey orders when I had a choice, not that I obeyed orders when I didn't, I side step her and check on her friend.

"Are you alright?" I asked him loudly, shaking his shoulder firmly but not roughly. I knew there was a chance that he'd have a concussion and I wanted to keep him awake and alert.

"I'm fine Giles," he replied somewhat groggily, causing me to smile despite the situation.

"Am I going to find someone in America who **doesn't** think I know Rupert?" I asked no one in particular. "Given the glassy look in your eyes I'll forgive you for mistaking me for the old bugger," I told him," but don't make it a habit." I extend my hand to help him up, an offer he takes after a moment. "The name's Anthony, and you are?" I asked.

"Xander," he replied.

I remembered Buffy mentioning a Xander and realised that they must be her friends. She was already feeling guilty for leaving them all, one she finds out they've been doing her job in her absence, she's going to feel ten times worse.

"Nice to meet you," I said evenly, hiding any indication that I knew who he was.

"How do you know Giles?" Fluffy asked me.

"Well…" I said, pausing so she could supply her name. I doubted she'd enjoy being called Fluffy.

"Willow," she supplied.

"Well, Willow, he's a friend of the family. How about you?"

"Oh, well, uh we're all students and Sunnydale High and he's the librarian there."

"And was I thinking that you all knew him as Buffy's Watcher," I replied mildly. That got a reaction out of them all, surprise showing in all but Neon's face. "Oh come on, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together."

"Are you a Watcher too?" she asked excitedly.

"God no," I answered immediately, "I'd rather be a crash test dummy."

"You got something against Watchers?" Xander asked.

"I haven't got anything against Rupert," I responded, knowing that was what he really wanted to know, "I would have flown thousands of miles to see him if I had, but I don't like the people he works for."

"Why?" Neon asked. "Oz."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Xander replied to my highly intelligent question, "he doesn't talk a lot."

"That's not something to talk about in the middle of a cemetery," I replied to Oz's question. "How about I give you all a lift to Rupert's," I offered, knowing that like me they all have wounds that that need treating, "he can rip into you all for patrolling without him, and then I'll drive you home."

"I can't speak for them," Cheerleader said, "but I have a car so I'll drive myself home thank you very much. See you losers later." With that, she storms off, obviously having had enough for one night.

"Don't mind Cordelia," Xander commented, "her hearts in the right place, but her tact and decency were surgically removed when she was in Kindergarten."

I nod in understanding, having dealt with women like that before. "So, you coming with me to Rupert's?"

"Don't see why not," Xander replied after looking receiving nods of agreement from his friends, "he knew we were doing this by the way."

"And he doesn't come with you?" I asked incredulously.

"Why would he?" Xander asked in reply.

It doesn't surprise me that they were patrolling, Buffy had made them all out to be loyal and brave, but it did surprise me that Rupert wasn't joining them, or giving them any training.

In fairness I knew that Rupert had no responsibility to prepare them for fighting the supernatural, training and preparing Buffy was no doubt a full time job in itself, but the Rupert I knew wouldn't let people without the mystical enhancements of a Slayer fight creatures far stronger and faster than them without some sort of training, even if it were only basic self defence.

"That's a topic we can discuss at Rupert's," I replied, indicating that they follow me to my car.

Now I'd decided to stay in Sunnydale for a while, I think it's time I finally got into the family business of eradicating demons off the face of the earth. The first thing is to arrange with Rupert to help train Buffy's friends so they have a chance of graduating.

I just hope I do my father proud.


End file.
